Carried Forward By Hope (3 page)

“And assassinating President Lincoln is hardly the way to build goodwill in the North,” Sam said sharply. “Look, I don’t think all these Rebels should be attacked, but I also understand how the black soldiers feel. They have just given years of their life to fight for a man who gave them their freedom. They finally have it, and now they get the news that Lincoln has been killed — by a southerner. They’re angry.”

“And they’re afraid,” Matthew added. “They’re wondering what will happen to them now that their savior has been killed. They realize there are a lot of politicians in the North that don’t care about them the way Lincoln did.”

Anger faded from Sam’s eyes. “They have a right to be afraid,” he admitted heavily. “Me and the fellows have been talking. President Johnson…” Sam paused, his eyes clouding with pain. “It will take a while to get used to saying that.”

“What do you know about him?” Matthew asked, eager to add to his own knowledge.

Sam looked at him as another band of Union soldiers ran past on their way to ambush another unsuspecting Confederate victim. “You really want to know whether President Johnson will carry forward Lincoln’s plans for the reconstruction of the United States?”

“Yes,” Matthew replied, afraid he already knew the answer.

Sam shrugged. “Only time will tell, but I don’t see it happening. Johnson is not Lincoln. They didn’t think the same, and they didn’t see things the same. As long as Lincoln was in charge, he could make things happen. Now…?” His voice trailed off as another fearful scream rent the air.

*******

Carrie woke with a start, realizing she had fallen asleep in the chair. She stared, bleary-eyed, at the soft yellow blanket that had been laid over her.

“Robert’s fever is completely gone,” Aunt Abby said cheerfully.

Carrie jerked her head up, suddenly remembering. “It’s gone?” she asked hopefully, her voice still groggy.

“Gone,” Rose assured her, grasping Carrie’s hands. “He even woke up and took some sips of soup. He looked over, saw you sleeping, and asked us to not wake you. Then he dropped off into a peaceful sleep of his own.”

Carrie smiled, allowing the relief to wash over her in waves. A quick glance told her Robert was sleeping peacefully, his breathing steady and even. Sudden tears filled her eyes. “Thank you,” she whispered. She looked around. “Janie?”

“Clifford came and took her to their room so she could get some sleep,” Aunt Abby replied.

Carrie started to smile but then stopped, struck by the look in Aunt Abby’s eyes. “What is it?” she asked.

Aunt Abby hesitated and then looked down at her hands.

“Aunt Abby? What’s wrong?”

“Perhaps nothing,” Aunt Abby finally said, raising troubled gray eyes. “I hope nothing.”

Carrie looked over at her husband again. “Is it Robert? Are you not telling me something?”

“No, no!” Aunt Abby said quickly. But then she stopped again, her eyes dark with distress.

Carrie looked up at Rose. “What is going on?” she demanded.

Rose opened her mouth and closed it again, her eyes troubled.

Carrie pushed aside the blanket and stood. “I really must demand you tell me what is going on,” she said crisply. “I may be tired, but I assure you I am not fragile.”

Rose chuckled. “You are most definitely not fragile,” she said tenderly. “And you do so sound like the heir to the Cromwell fortune right now.”

Carrie fought to control her sudden hysteria. Only she knew how little was left of the Cromwell fortune. She did, however, realize how imperious her voice had sounded. “I’m sorry,” she said contritely. “I’ve gotten rather used to giving orders after three years of being in charge of my ward at Chimborazo Hospital.”

She took several deep breaths and forced her voice to remain calm and even. “I know you are both trying to protect me from something. I’d rather you didn’t. I’ve discovered during four years of war that I would much rather know the battle I am fighting. Hiding from reality never seems to serve a purpose.”

“You’re right,” Aunt Abby said with a heavy sigh. “It’s just that we hope we’re wrong, and we don’t want you to worry about something that might not even be a problem.” She glanced at Rose. “Tell her.”

Carrie turned to Rose and took a steadying breath.

“We’re concerned about Janie,” Rose finally said. “Clifford seemed so angry when he came to get her.”

Carrie stared at her, confused by this sudden turn of events. “Janie?”

“She was afraid when she left with him,” Aunt Abby added. “I’m sure of it. I could see it in her eyes.”

Carrie gazed at both of them, snippets of images from the last week flooding her mind. She nodded slowly. “I guess I didn’t see it. Or maybe,” she admitted, “I didn’t want to see it. The war changed him,” she said slowly.

Moses picked that moment to enter the room. Rose nodded at him. “You’ve told her?” he asked.

Carrie jerked her head around. “About Janie?” She eased back down in her chair. “Please tell me everything,” she insisted, leaning forward to look into all of their faces.

Moses settled down in one of the sturdiest chairs, easing his muscular frame forward. “Clifford is a man with a lot of hate in him,” he said slowly. “Especially against us black folks.”

“Clifford?” Carrie echoed. She wanted to deny what she was hearing, but now that she was being forced to hear it, supporting images were telling her it was the truth. Her shoulders sagged. “But, Janie…”

“She’s got the same kind of love in her that you do,” Aunt Abby said softly. “That’s why we’re concerned for her. Clifford is going to feel threatened by his wife feeling differently than he does.”

“But he knew who she was before they married,” Carrie protested.

“This war has changed a lot of people,” Moses said. “The South lost,” he said bluntly. “Clifford’s whole world has changed. He’s got to find a way to vent all that anger. He knows better than to vent it against the North, so he has to find another target.”

“The freed slaves,” Carrie said bluntly. Her heart raged, but her mind told her it was true.

Aunt Abby nodded and gripped both her hands. “It’s going to happen everywhere,” she said sadly. “We’re in for a long battle.”

“She’s right,” Rose said calmly. “We may have our freedom, but we don’t yet have the freedom to live our lives in this country.”

“You sound very calm about it,” Carrie observed, her mind whirling as she thought about Janie.

Rose shrugged. “We’ve talked about it at the contraband camp for the last three years. We knew that when the war finally ended it would be the beginning of the slaves’ fight to truly be free. Our goal was to equip our students so they could fight their battle.”

Carrie nodded, but her heart and thoughts were with Janie. “She’s leaving to go back to Raleigh with Clifford,” she said with sudden fear. “What will happen?”

“Do you think you can convince her to not go?” Aunt Abby asked.

Carrie stared at her. “Convince her to leave Clifford?” She shook her head. “I don’t know.” She thought about the joyful wedding just months before. “They’ve been married such a short time,” she murmured.

Aunt Abby squeezed her hands again tightly. “We might be completely wrong,” she said firmly.

Carrie gazed at her, knowing Aunt Abby was trying to make her feel better, and also knowing the older woman didn’t believe a word of what she had just said.

“Carrie…”

Carrie leaped up as Robert croaked her name. “Robert!” Pushing aside thoughts of Janie, she rushed to his side.

“I’m hungry,” he said weakly.

Carrie smiled for the first time that day. “Well, I can certainly do something about that,” she said cheerfully as she looked into his clear eyes.

“I’ll go down and get something,” Rose said instantly.

Carrie nodded and continued to gaze down at her husband. She couldn’t bring Lincoln back to life, she couldn’t know what was happening in Richmond right now, and she couldn’t change how Clifford thought, but she
could
love her husband. She stroked his hair gently as she took hold of one of his hands. “I love you, Robert,” she said tenderly. “You’re going to get well,” she added, forcing the fierce tone out of her voice, but doing nothing to keep it from resonating within her heart.

She longed to return to Cromwell Plantation, but she knew it was too soon to move Robert. It was enough to know it still stood. Captain Jones, Moses’s commanding officer, had sent out a squadron of men to check on it and bring back news. Moses claimed the captain did it for Carrie because he had such respect for how she escaped the plantation on Granite three years earlier. She didn’t really care why; she was simply glad to know her home remained. Everything in her wanted to be there right now, but it wasn’t time.

“I’ve been very sick,” Robert murmured.

Carrie took hope from the awareness in his voice. She settled down on the bed next to him, still stroking his hair. “Yes, you’ve been very sick,” she agreed. “But I believe the worst is behind you now,” she said firmly. “Now you’re just going to get better.”

Robert gazed at her for a long moment and then looked around the room.

Carrie’s heart leaped with gladness. Her husband’s eyes were actually looking — they were
seeing
for the first time. He gave a brief smile to Rose and Moses, recognizing both of them, but his eyes grew confused when they settled on the older woman.

Carrie stood, took Aunt Abby by the hand, and drew her to the bed. “This is Aunt Abby, Robert,” she said happily.

Robert’s confusion cleared. “Aunt Abby,” he said. “Carrie’s Aunt Abby.”

Aunt Abby’s joyful laugh filled the room as she laid her hand on Robert’s arm. “I am so very glad to finally have the chance to meet you. I’ve only heard about you for five years. It’s nice to know you weren’t just a figment of Carrie’s imagination,” she said teasingly.

Darkness fled the room as the breeze brought in hope and light. The curtains swayed and danced as hope replaced the despair that filled the room just minutes before.

Robert stared up at Aunt Abby. “You have good eyes,” he said, but then his head slumped back against the pillow. “So tired…” he whispered.

Aunt Abby stepped back as Carrie placed her hand on his head again, relieved beyond measure to find it cool to the touch. “You’ve had quite a long day,” she said soothingly.

May entered the room with a bowl of soup.

Carrie lifted Robert easily until he was sitting partially upright, still stunned that her robust husband was now frail and light enough for her to lift. She kept her voice cheerful, encouraged by his awareness. “Just take a few bites of this soup. Then you can go to sleep.”

Robert nodded weakly, took the soup obediently, and then closed his eyes, his face going lax.

Carrie gazed down at him and then smiled at Aunt Abby and Rose. “It’s a healing sleep,” she whispered. “We’ll go down now so that he won’t be disturbed.”

*******

Carrie looked at the two empty seats as May brought steaming platters out to the table. Robert’s awareness had lifted her spirits more than anything could have, but the conversation she’d had earlier with Aunt Abby and Rose had played through her mind all afternoon.

“Where are Clifford and Janie?” Matthew asked, reaching for a piece of cornbread. “This is too good of a meal to miss.”

Carrie pushed back from the table, aware of Aunt Abby and Rose’s gaze on her. “I’ll run up and check on her,” she said casually. “She must have been so tired after helping with Robert. I just want to make sure she’s all right.”

Moments later she was easing down the hallway of the east wing, wondering why she was walking so quietly, but loath to make noise. She would analyze it later. She padded down the hallway past Jeremy’s room, slowing as she heard angry voices coming from the end room. Frowning and no longer concerned about stealth, she moved more quickly.

“I tell you those soldiers have no right to be here in Richmond!”

Carrie heard Clifford’s voice easily through the closed door. She raised her hand to knock but then dropped it and decided to listen.

Janie didn’t respond, but Clifford continued on. “Those niggers have no right to tell white men what they can and cannot do!” He paused. “I tell you, we just won’t have it! Something has to be done.”

Janie still said nothing.

“Don’t you have anything to say?” Clifford asked sharply. “Can you do no more than look at me?”

“What would you like me to say?”

Carrie stiffened when she heard the fear in Janie’s voice. Aunt Abby and Rose had been right! She raised her hand to knock but dropped it once again. What if her presence made it worse for Janie?

“Surely you must agree with me,” Clifford said scathingly. “Clearly you see that having blacks in control of whites is simply not acceptable.”

“The North won,” Janie said simply. “I suspect everyone in the South is going to have a lot to adjust to.”

“
Adjust
to?” Clifford snapped. “You think I will
adjust
to having a nigger tell me what I can do?” Scorn and anger dripped from his voice. “You’re even more stupid than you look,” he said coldly.